


Act, and the Whole World Will Move

by SavageLobo



Category: League of Legends, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5, Shin Megami Tensei
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Injury/Death, Drama, F/F, F/M, Violence, car crash, comfort/hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 02:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavageLobo/pseuds/SavageLobo
Summary: Yaldabaoth's power is becoming far more dangerous than Igor initially thought. In a desperate attempt to tip the scales back to centre, he calls upon a rebel from another world - that rebel being none other than one Xan Irelia: Fearless leader of Ionia's rebellion against Noxus, and loving, protective adoptive sister. By just how much does Igor's intervention challenge the rigged nature of the game Yaldabaoth is playing? What can Irelia hope to accomplish in her time as one of the Phantom Thieves?The stakes are much higher, what with Yaldabaoth injecting himself into the Sea of Souls that one Minato Arisato had fought so hard to protect when he took the responsibility of the world upon his shoulders. How does Minato deal with the issue? What would his team think if they saw who he fell in love with after all the time that had passed? How is the onset of a second case of Apathy Syndrome dealt with and deliberated upon?(First fan fiction, so any form of constructive criticism is welcome.)





	Act, and the Whole World Will Move

When first I could hear the sounds around me, I noticed several inconsistencies. First of all, I do not recall ever falling asleep to the sound of waves crashing into the side of, what I perceive to be, a boat. Secondly, I certainly do not remember falling asleep in a performance theatre, with a calming melody springing to life from a piano tied with other instruments for attention or a woman singing an aria so passionately. Was I kidnapped in the middle of the night? But then why would I be in a theatre? Or did I simply have far too much to drink, and can’t remember the events very well? Too many questions, yet not enough answers to match. The bedding is certainly welcome, however...  
  
My eyes shutter open to the warm light of a lantern swaying gently in the air, suspended by a hook lodged into a brownish-golden wooden plank wall. From my position, I see the black bed littered with blue and yellow pillows I’m occupying is pressed up against the back wall of the room, with a barrel chained down as a sort of nightstand standing to my right. There is a large window above the head of the bed, with a small latch – in case the waves’ crests become too much, I’m assuming – and deep blue curtains. A few steps away from the foot of the bed is a deep maroon-coloured table with papers scattered across its surface, jars of ink dotting wherever the papers were not and feathers. Next to it stood a coat hanger with an Admiral’s hat, coloured a deep blue as well, resting atop one of the hooks. Seagulls chirping outside the windows would have led me to believe I fell asleep as an Admiral of my own vessel. The leader of my own fleet of ships, sailing the seas to venture off into distant lands – to explore and conquer.

But the thing that ruined those fantasies – and made me most worried - was the blue “aura” that permeated all throughout the room.

Starting a few inches away from the lantern resting above was a kind of smoke or fog that danced around the room, almost moving for the sake of moving. Its effects, however, weren’t that of either because I could still see the blue, velvety flag sprawled across the room from my position on the bed, without any hindrance whatsoever. I swing my feet over the edge of the bed, noting the fact that I remained in my deep red and white, loosely tied kimono. With regards to the kimono, I prefer them loose for a rather personal reason. They’ve always reminded me of my older brothers’ hugs from when I was younger. How I’ve missed them...

Again, I gaze across the room, getting a better view past the wall near the bed. Alone sat a figure at a much tidier desk, with some sort of futuristic “desk light,” a green cloth in the centre to represent a workspace, I’d wager a guess, and a neat stack of papers. The lighting made the features of the figure difficult to discern, but he appeared to be rather stout, with a balding head of hair, due to the small tufts of it drifting behind the top of his head. His white-gloved hands cover half of his face, but his rather large nose and bulging, bloodshot eyeballs are more than apparent. I can barely make out an eerie smile, nearly large enough to rip his face apart.

Slowly, I stand and approach. Considering this was far from home, my blades wouldn’t be here to protect me should something happen. Yet, I can’t shake this feeling of apprehension. I want to know why I’m in this odd place, but I’m afraid. Afraid of an answer that won’t be to my liking, or perhaps I’m afraid of a potential ambush. But, if it was an ambush he wanted, wouldn’t he have done so _while_ I was asleep? What stopped him?   
  
“Ah... It appears that we have a most intriguing guest.”   
  
I stop dead in my tracks a few feet away from his desk, heartbeat slowing down at his very calm and relaxed demeanour. His smile never once faltering, and his voice both soothing and yet unnerving. My arms reach each other across my stomach, sleeves of the kimono overlapping as closely as possible. Instincts in this very moment are telling me to get into position, just for the instance that the stranger unleashes his hounds of war, or some guard hoists me up onto his shoulder. I shift my feet and look carefully around his desk, as well as behind me.. Yet, no surprises await either behind myself or the stranger.   
  
“This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. The Velvet Room is merely a reflection of the state of your own heart, and thus, the you in reality is simply experiencing this as a dream,” the man explains. 

  
My  head  quickly turns to meet s his face, and I try to maintain a stoic expression  to prevent weakness from showing . Based on his light chuckling, I can see  the extent of this blunder. My hands begin to fidget in a fit of nerves,  fingers tapping along my wrists gently yet quickly . I do not know if this man can be considered friend or foe, nor do I know for certain of the reasoning as to my being here. But, he continues with his soothing voice.  
  
“My name is Igor... I am delighted to make your acquaintance.  Why don’t you introduce yourself?”  
  
His question is simple enough, but the words refuse to find their way past my throat. If he wanted  to capture and torture me, surely he would have done something by now, _ assuming_ he knew exactly who I was. ‘Calm down, he very likely just wants to talk,’ I tell myself. I take a deep breath, allowing the air to relax whatever muscles may have been tempted to storm up to his desk and perform something drastic. An introduction is necessary to begin negotiations, after all...

“I-err...” Warmth rushes to my face, betraying my facade of composure. Igor lightly chuckles again. Abruptly, I clear my throat and, with renewed confidence, I speak,” You may call me Irelia,” with a polite bow. His smile widens barely enough for me to notice.   
  
“Excellent. Now... do you believe in fate, Miss Irelia?” he asks. With a wave of his hand, a small deck of cards appears on the table, to his right. Gently, he picks them up and begins shuffling, as if it was an old habit of his. His eyes remained fixated on mine, not once shifting to his hands. Fate was always something I had a conflicting view on. I had come to believe fate to be a form of test – to see if one’s spirit was strong and pure enough to withstand the hardships of existence. Those who came from nothing and created unimaginable beauty were to be revered for their purity of heart, because of their upbringing.  At least, that was what O-ma had taught me. Experience spoke otherwise, where those who had come from nothing _and _created beauty sometimes had a heart of malice and indignity, their sins extending outwards like tendrils that could not find it’s limit. From the past, those who displayed masks of pure intent had instead created stains that dotted – and haunted – history, with great difficulty in cleansing such impurities. And yet, I’ve also seen those who had everything, reduce themselves to nothing in order to better understand just what it means to live. Those who were born into wealth would, on occasion, possess a heart much more pure than any maiden I’d have ever known. Those were the rare ones, unfortunately.   
  
“I do, but I do not believe it to be absolute. Fates thought to be set in stone can be overturned with a single movement, like ripples in a pond,” I reply, watching his deft movements with the small deck of cards. One more shuffle and he gently sets the deck in a corner of the green, velvety square on the desk. With a snap of his fingers, the cards fly into a circular shape, with the middle point of the square at its centre. His attention returns to me, with his maddening grin remaining on his face, seemingly glued in position.  


“You are very wise, Miss Irelia.” His eyes illuminate a passionate excitement towards the answer. It seems to me that he agrees on some fundamental level. “I understand you have many questions,” he continues. “Allow me to do my best to answer such questions... with a story. One of another world, not so dissimilar from the one in which you inhabit. Now please, have a seat,” he points to a – suddenly appearing – ornate mahogany chair, its amount of use definitely apparent at its numerous scratches and dust-caked backrest. I gently oblige, and rest my hands in my lap, clasping each other as if in preparation. His smile grows seemingly more... endearing, as if he were a wise teacher – one destined to guide a hero along his path.

  
“ Here, on this world called “Earth” inhabits mankind – just as your own world does. However, the stakes are very different, indeed. Throughout time immemorial, divine beings have sought either to take dominion over man, or to cleanse it off of the world’s surface. And yet, time and time again, heroes rise from the ashes and perform great deeds in the name of protecting those who cannot safely protect themselves,” he says. “And thus-” with a snap of his fingers, the card closest to me flips over, revealing an oddly shaped man carrying a bag tied tightly at the end of a stick slung over his shoulder,  marked by the number ‘zero,’ “-begins the Fool’s journey.”  
  
“The “Fool”?  As in, lacking in understanding ?”   
  
“ Like the number zero, the Fool holds infinite possibilities within him. But, he begins unaware of this potential,  yes . By being cast out from the known world into the unknown, either by his own volition or unfortunate circumstance, he slowly comes to understand what it is exactly that he is capable of,” he responds. With a wave of his hand, a few more cards flip over, revealing a pair of eyes and a gentle, blue flame engulfing each, as well as a colourless woman on her  knees in prayer. Following that are, what appears to be, a King and Queen,  marked by a 4 and a 3, respectively, each sitting on their thrones, a  priestly figure appearing to give a sermon and a  star, hanging up in what appears to be a night sky with a rather... odd face attached to its body .  These are quite the elaborate card s for any simple fortune telling . Igor moves to speak up once more,” Along his journey, he comes across those that would aid in his quest to see him through his  trials and tribulations . And just like no 2 individuals are alike  in personality , neither are 2 Fools’ jour neys... ” he  trails off, cast ing  his gaze downward slightly, as if in resignation over a troubling conclusion. This must mean that not every Fool has a happy ending. 

“What troubles you, Igor?”  
  
His eyes shift  back to face mine. His smile falters, more drastically tha n I’d ever have imagine d . 

“Well... There was a n int eresting guest of mine  who sacrificed everything to ensure humanity’s survival. His... was a sad tale. Without family save for his sister, he was truly alone... Until he met with who would  eventually become  those he would confide in . In the ensuing year, they came to care for one another, welcoming new members into their ranks  like comrades around a fire. Their trials, however, were long and arduous. As fate would have it, an event known as ‘The Fall’ would have happened, had it not been for the young master’s sacrifice...” he finishes, eyes downcast again.  He seemed to respect this man greatly,  or at least hold him in high esteem. To live a life alone is... not to truly live at all. 

“What exactly  was ‘The Fall?’” I question, curious at the implication. Considering the context he had provided previously, I could only assume it was referring to the “fall” of mankind. But what that entailed, I know not.  
  
“Simply put, the descent of Nyx – a goddess –  unto Earth was  to bring about the end of existenc e as they knew it ,” he replies, flatly. So I was rig- wait, goddess!? My eyes widen in surprise at the revelation. 

“Goddess? But... aren’t the divine responsible with nurturing their followers to ensure their survival? Why would she desire to end existence?” He shakes his head, and his smile begins to form again. 

“ Perhaps in other instances, yes. B ut sometimes not all is as it seems. There are even those who would seek to hide their true intentions behind a... wall of fog, such as  the goddess Izanami. She believed that humanity wanted nothing more  than to shy way into a world of falsehoods and blissful ignorance. Yet, it was the successor to the previous Fool that had shown her the... error of her ways. He revealed humanity’s desire to discover the truth, consequences be damned,” his smile was back to its original size, the life appearing to have returned to Igor. But, these goddesses seem more like demons in disguise. I’ve seen what humanity can do to each other, given the proper tools, but... The divine? Those who were supposed to guide us to a higher being? Th e vanguard who guide and protect us? That's just...  unfathomable .  I’m glad that these ‘Fools’ had risen up to the challenge and bested both of these divine temptresses. And yet, I remain curious. If there had been two Fools thus far, were there more? Is there another  currently?   
  
“You’ve mentioned 2 of these ‘Fools,’ Igor, but, pray tell, what of a third? How many others  are there?” I quirk my eyebrow s in a questioning gaze. Truly, I am curious. This  must be part of the reason of my summons to this Velvet Room.  Either I am to be the third in line, or perhaps I am to be one of these “Fools” to depart on my own odyssey. He begins to speak once again. 

“Ah yes... the true reason for your summons to this Velvet Room.” With a wave of his hand, the cards that appeared and established their places on the table had vanished in a gathering of  blue-glowing butterflies, with a deep, navy blue pocketbook taking their place in the center of the velvet square, and a simple dark-blue metallic pencil resting on its cover “On the horizon for this other world lies ruin – complete and utter devastation of humanity with power never before seen, with a being far more terrible than either Nyx or Izanami. Indeed, another Fool shall muster the courage to overturn a truly unjust game,” he  explains. “And that, Miss Irelia, is where you come in.” He gently slides the pocketbook towards me, then returning his hand to join its twin just below his nose in a sort of plank. “Within this new journey, the tables are tilted far too greatly to consider this a test of mankind by some malevolent  being . Instead, a new force would wish to declare himself a conqueror, and stop at nothing to enslave not only Earth, but your world as well.  Each passing day, his power grows as he herds more into his false-flock, leading Earth closer and closer to certain and utter destruction, and I fear the next Wild Card simply won’t be enough.” His gaze hardens as he explains the situation, with his eyes conveying a message of desperation. Truly, then, his intentions are just. He seeks only to aid in mankind’s survival. 

“But then, how am I to stand against these malicious intents? Surely you have a plan in mind,” I inquire. However, at the end of my question, I hear a faint tapping noise on the outside of the boat. The taps, soon enough, pick up in pace.   
  
Rain. 

“Oh dear... I’m afraid he’s found us...” Igor  mutters, panic flashing over his eyes, if not for a moment. Then, a sudden crash of thunder strikes the ocean next to us, sending a small spray of water onto a window behind me. “If you wish to assist, and to prevent ruin from both Earth and your realm,” he begins, sliding the pen off to the right side of the pocketbook, and opening the front cover, “then you must decide quickly. Our time is growing shorter, and I fear for your safety while we still reside here.” I read the page in the pocketbook. A contract of sorts, it seems; dotted line and everything. The body of which reads – in Ionian? - “ I will be the bearer of consequences of my own actions.” 

I am amazed that it was written in a language I am familiar with, because I highly doubt Igor knows what the language itself looks like. But, I must  admit I am curious as to what adventures await me, and whether or not those I care about will remain safe throughout my absence, should I accept. My goal in life ever since the invasion was to make Ionia proud – to see its people flourish and enjoy life to its fullest. But if I leave, then who will maintain that? Who will ensure its peace and protect the First Lands? Even if I’ve been helping my friend – and last ‘sister’ - acclimate to society, would she be willing to protect it in my stead? I want to prevent ruin from occurring because I refuse to allow my countrymen to perish, yet I need a guarantee,  a backdrop in the instance that I am to leave my home for much longer than I anticipate.   
  
“Igor,” I beg i n, gazing into his eyes “should I sign this, what would become of my home? Do I have a guarantee of its safety? Do I have a guarantee of my loved ones’ safety as well?” He sat there, deliberating I assume, for only a moment, with the rain filling in the silence. S hortly after , he responded. 

“Never fear, Miss Irelia. You have the word of my Master that those you cherish will not have harm befall them. And he is not one to go back on his word.”  His smile returned in full force, yet again, this time in reassurance. 

“Very well. As long as they are safe, I am committed to seeing this through.” I reach for the metallic pencil, when a large boom of thunder begins shaking the boat. I slightly jump, nearly shuffling the utensil off the desk. This time, however, the thunder that followed the lightning drew shivers up my spine at its aftermath. A booming, faint voice echoed beneath the thunder’s lashes in the crisp, salty air.  
  
“ _ ** I...gorrrr... ** _ ”  
  
The long-nosed man’s eyes widen slightly more than they already were, fear draping across his expression. This... this is what he meant, then. This figure must be after whatever it is Igor holds in his possession. Perhaps its Igor himself.  Perhaps his dark crusade simply begins with the Velvet Room, Igor being its guardian.   
  
Redoubling my resolve, I reach for the metal pencil, and begin to sign my name on the dotted line of the contract.   
  
_ Xan Irelia _

“Excellent...” Igor let out a breath of relief, as if the weight of the world was suddenly lifted off his shoulders. He was pleased, no doubt. He then reaches for the pocketbook  and places in within his suit jacket.   
  
“ _ ** Time... is up... Igorrr... ** _ ” the sound returns with another quick flash of lightning and an even louder crash of thunder, th e voice  sounding much more clear  and louder than before . 

“I’m afraid that I must leave the rest of this in your hands, Miss Irelia. When you awake, seek out Theodore. He will be of great importance along this chaotic journey,” Igor states, his hand returning to its spot beneath his nose. The rain is coming down in harsh waves, now, pelting the deck of the vessel like hail on a roof. With his wording it seems that our time is coming to a close.   
  
“Until we meet again, dear guest, and farewell... For now, the sands of time march forever forward...”   
  
As my vision begins to fade, I bring my left hand across my chest and bow forward, as a sign of respect. His smile is the last thing I see before total pitch-black envelops my sight.  


  


  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, that's the first chapter! Did you love it, did you hate it? You're the best, you're the best, so give me some feedback if you like and I'll be sure to make the necessary changes in this chapter and in the ones to come. Let me know what you guys think!
> 
> I apologize in advance for any... continuity errors that may arise, or for any grammatical errors that have/will occur in the future. 
> 
> However, thanks for reading my first attempt at a fan fiction. :)


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